Jethro Tull: Rock & Roll Renaissance Band
There are a lot of stories surrounding the 1968 shelving of The Rolling Stones Rock & Roll Circus. One of the most repeated is that Jagger thought the Stones were upstaged by The Who’s energetic performance of A Quick One.
The Who were certainly in top form and they looked fresh but their chosen song was — and still is — awkward. An even better description of it is pretentious. Keep that description in mind for later but, for now, take a look and a listen to the show. The Stones were in fine form musically with the exception of Brian Jones who was tragically reaching the end of his short life and it showed.
I think Mick — and possibly the rest of the Stones — were a bit put off by the overly bright lighting Hogg used, as well as, the slap dish audience costuming. I would also note that the entire band looks a bit haggard. Apparently, they were working hard at the time on Let It Bleed and then taped the show without a break in a two day nonstop blowout. But I am speaking only of their physical appearance, musically they were spot on, playing their most important recent tunes in as straightforward a manner as they ever attempted.
Which means that it was — I think — physical esthetics that shelved the project for almost 30 years, not the alleged underperformance of the host band. There was, by the way, nothing wrong esthetically or musically with two of the other guests present: John Lennon and Taj Mahal. Their performances are pretty much flawless and they both come the closest to actually upstaging the hosts. After all, John was still a Beatle, singing a Beatle song before a live audience in 1968…that rooftop thing was still over a month away.
So there you go, the Circus in a nutshell, except that there was one more band present: Jethro Tull. I have to suppose they were invited because they were making an immediate and noisy splash in the London scene of the time. Immediate because the band had barely formed and the lineup was still in flux as the Circus filming would capture: Black Sabbath’s Tony Iommi was presented as Tull’s guitarist but he left the band before recording a note. He was replaced by Martin Barre and this would turn out to an excellent personal switch for both groups.
Tull’s performance of a Song For Jeffery on the Circus was a mixed bag of live vocals and flute with the rest of the music pre-recorded for reasons that are not fully made clear. Interestingly, it would be a sort of split between what Tull was initially intended to be and what it would become through to this day.
Specifically, founding guitarist and co-singer songwriter Mick Abrahams, envisioned a Blues-Rock band along the lines of similar British groups of the time. Ian Anderson, Tull’s primary vocalist, flutist and acoustic guitar play had something more imaginative in mind. Consequently, Mick split and formed Blodwyn’s Pig, which, naturally, adhered to his formula and you can hear the results for yourself. They sound a lot like Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac. Anderson — as you know — stuck with Tull.
What Ian had in mind was a bizarre mashup of hard Prog Rock mixed with Elizabethan British Folk delivered by some sort of Victorian Age hobo. That last part I am making up a bit. Ian was gifted his father’s oversized winter coat and that combined with his wild beard and long hair made him look like a character straight out of Dickens.
Indeed, this is the persona he brought to the Circus along with the odd facial ticks that accompanied his singing. But Ian also hints at his next persona as he plays the flute on one leg in an attempt to imitate a minstrel from the Middle Ages. He would perfect that look with leotards and boots in tours to come. The unfortunate loss of his long unkept hair may have also been a contributing factor.
Looks aside, Song For Jeffery is a slide Blues song similar to Zeppelin’s take on Traveling Riverside Blues. In other words, nothing like the Tull you either like or malign. And that is the overall feel of the band’s debut, This Was. The most obvious difference between Tull and the other British Blues bands of the era is that Tull — and more specifically — Ian Anderson — included extensive flute improvisations where their compatriots would have gone with electro guitar fills.
One would suppose that with an instrument like the flute — in the midst of a singular Rock guitar era — that Ian must have been some sort of child prodigy. But as he described it in those early years, every time he hit the stage he was learning by playing. Which leads to the obvious question: Why do such a thing?
The answer is that Ian realized he was mediocre guitar player in a musical scene full of great ones. So the solution, as he saw it, was to pick something else to play that would make him stand out. 50 years later, one would have to conclude that it worked. But I am digressing from our Big Top time line.
When the Circus folded, the band was at a guitarist crossroads. Founding guitarist Mick Abrahams had moved on and Tony Iommi turned out to be a reluctant fit. Luckily, London was awash with those aforementioned great guitar players.
At a second audition with Martin Barre, Ian rehearsed some of the new songs he was working on and Martin made an impression. It is easy to muse about unheralded guitarists in Rock writing but Martin was the rare real thing — at least for me.
Think of Whole Lotta Love, Sunshine of Your Love and — say — Purple Haze. Nobody would deny that these are three of the most important heavy Rock guitar riffs in the history of the genre. Now think about Aqualung. The other three players are names you know and could reel off in an instance but could you do the same for Aqualung? And yet it is one of the most recognizable riffs of the era in a band that is more famous for its flute.
I would add that in addition to Martin, Tull has had several excellent drummers, bassists and keyboardists. But if you want to try and understand why The band was so catchy and seemingly hard rocking even when — by all rights — this should have been a Middle Aged muddle, listen for Martin’s electric guitar. Even on tunes where he is hanging back, his playing adds Rock credibility where it may have been lacking. Case in point, Skating Away On The Thin Ice of a New Day, it is not much of a riff but you catch it.
In fact, those first three Barre albums and the live dates from that era are must hears. They are the Hard Rock you would automatically associate with those years. After that, Ian’s conceptual ambitions smothered the band with the trappings of Queen Elizabeth and Sherwood Forest and narrative plots that required 20 minute run times to work.
All of this is not to say it is bad or that the band was unwilling to follow Ian to where he wanted to go. Quite the opposite. The musical inspiration and dedication never falters on their extended concepts and that is the reason to listen. Somehow the band made it work as Rock & Roll even when an album like Thick As A Brick is only two songs and that was only because the CD hadn’t been invented yet.
The problem was that this sort of pretense was exactly the thing that American Rock snobs could take shots at because it wasn’t their cultural heritage they were dismissing. Another inviting target were Ian’s lyrics which could often be either inscrutable or silly, sometimes within the same song.
Oddly, this sort of Knights of the Roundtable approach to Rock was acceptable to the same snobs when the artist was Richard Thompson or Fairport Convention or to a much lesser extent, Led Zeppelin. It is also interesting to note that despite Ian’s overreach on some of his themes, nobody could deny that they were not weighty. In other words, you would think self serious critics of the time would be lapping this stuff up. But, on the other hand, the band was wildly popular for a time with younger men and, therefore, it was safe to dismiss it all as overblown theater and kids stuff.
And time — as it always does — would take it toll. Just as the Rock music zeitgeist began to change in the second half of the 1970’s, Ian began to run out of great ideas. Nevertheless, he and the band kept the Renaissance Rock framework and they began to sound as dated as the entire concept. It is one thing to sing about man’s relationship to God and another to pay homage to One Brown Mouse while strumming a lute. This, at a time when the Sex Pistols were also singing about British Queens in an entirely different way.
Eventually, as the decade turned, the band tried to vary their sound and that often involved multiple personal changes. The results never matched the response to their early 1970’s heyday.
In 1987, the band tried emphasizing Martian Barre’s guitar work — to an extent greater then on their other 1980’s albums at any rate. As a result the album, Crest of a Knave, won a Grammy for best Hard Rock/Metal Performance beating out Metallica. This, of course, created more backlash against them despite the incident being not their own doing and — as fate would have it — they weren’t even present for the award.
To this ear, nothing that followed can touch the early years. By 2012, Ian and Martin had gone their separate ways and both seem reluctant to use the moniker of Jethro Tull. Ian — as might be expected — resurrected the band in the sense that he put out a record in 2022 under the name Jethro Tull.
On it, Ian explores religious themes once again and the production is warm but his vocals lack any variation as age has apparently left him unable to shift gears. No matter, he and his supporting bandmates have already done their duty over the past half century. What was old is new again and that was always the point then and now.
My Sunday Feeling — This Was: Bright and Beaty. While many rightly credit Ian for the flute thing, Mick Abrahams continued to embrace it when he departed Tull for Blodwyn Pig. The difference is that Mick went for flute Jazz and Ian flute Folk.
Dear Jill — Blodwyn Pig: This might have been what Tull would have sounded like had Mick not left. It sounds a bit like Little Red Rooster. This is from the Pig debut. Check out The Modern Alchemist to hear the Jazz side of the Pig and Same Old Story to hear a heavier number. This track is on the Almost Famous soundtrack by the way.
A New Day Yesterday — Stand Up: A new guitarist as well. Martin Barre debuts on the bands second album and it is heavier then you might imagine if you never heard it. In fact, this turn sounds a lot like the song and the band Black Sabbath. That is not as strange as it might sounds give Tony Iommi’s short stint in the band.
Living In The Past — Single: Dig those wood blocks on Tull’s first hit. Oddly, this was not initially an album track. It is the classic Tull sound but the first three albums don’t much sound like classic Tull. Rather, Ian and company seemed to be separating the sound of their singles from the albums for some reason.
Teacher — Single: Another classic Tull sounding hit and yet another single…
To Cry You A Song — Benefit: Unlike the singles, the classic Tull sound took time to develop on their full length albums. On Benefit the Folk ante is upped but songs like this one still had a heavy Free or even Zeppelin like sound. The first three albums are really a must if you want heavy 70’s sound.
For A Thousand Mothers — Stand Up Bonus Track Live: Once again, Tull was a hard rocking band in it’s early years which is ironic given the Grammy awarded in 1989. Give a listen to the entire Carnegie Hall concert from 1970. Sure it is not And Justice For All era Metallica but that Tull could at least legitimately compete for a Hard Rock Grammy.
Mother Goose — Aqualung: On this one, Ian perfects the sort of Lord of the Rings Folk song he had previously been building toward. As mentioned earlier with Skating Away, however, Martin Barre manages to layer in a powerful Rock guitar riff that by all rights a song like this should have. A brilliant mix of themes and music.
Hymn 43 — Aqualung: The well known concept behind this album is it’s critic of organized religion. But it is not — so far as I can tell — a narrative concept like Tommy. Rather it is a collection of distinct songs and it is a wise move given the difficulty of telling a story musically.
Here the message comes through loud and clear but — once again — it is the music that takes this song to another level. It may not be as catchy as the three most famous high energy tracks on this album but it might be the most unhinged in its driving head long delivery. Truly a must listen with headphones tune.
Driving Song — Living In The Past: A collection of its era, when singles and ep’s were music separate from full albums. Released in the wake of the success of Aqualung the music is mostly from the period before that record. As such, the songs — like this one — are rough edged and heavy.
Memory Bank — A Passion Play: Yes meets Shakespeare in yet another full album length concept. Unlike it predecessor, Thick As A Brick, the narrative (a journey through the afterlife) forces the presentation to divide into distinct songs or sections. The result can generously be described as overwrought but there is no denying the level of musics craftsmanship.
John Evan, in particular, dominates the sound in certain sections and rivals Rick Waksman in terms of complexity. You either love it or hate it but this is the Tull people remember and often not for the better. There is a clear dividing line in the bands approach to arrangement and a r was set at and by Aqualung.
Taxi Grab — Too Old To Rock & Roll: After Passion Play, the band returned to a distinct and unrelated song style on War Child and, as a result, earned increased airplay with songs like Skating Away and Bungle In the Jungle.
Ian Anderson, however, could not be completely deterred from his narrative ambitions. As the artist that is his right and the audience can follow along…or not. It is interesting to note that he avoided the approach of Thick and Passion for the remainder of the 1970’s but instead placed distinct songs within an overall album length concept framework.
Too Old To Rock & Roll employees that aforementioned approach and this, I think, allowed the band to Rock out in a more accessible way musically. The one drawback to this compromise would be Ian’s dense lyrics. They tended not to be radio or concert friendly and, as mentioned, the times were a changing in the Rock scene.
Overall, and from then on, Ian never let his omniscient minstrel persona fall away and the songs suffer a bit from that dedication to his singular artistic vision. Sometimes with Rock & Roll you just got to cut loose. In their youth, Ian and Martin did just that and it was imaginative stuff. Sort of like coming across Tull out on a stage in the middle of the woods next to a roaring. bonfire. The band is blasting Aqualung to a happy assembled crowd that is slaking its thirst with some strong mead and their pipes are filled with good herbs. That sort of thing. Take care all, till next time!
